


Just Black

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, CEO!Crowley, Coffee Shop Owner Dean Winchester, Human!Crowley, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 03:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: His son often told him that he was predictable. Crowley disagreed. He’d always made a point of being unpredictable. Yes, he had a tight schedule that he strictly adhered to, but as the CEO of the firm he’d built up from the ground, that was only to be expected.And then he met a baker. Drowley Coffee Shop AU





	Just Black

His son often told him that he was predictable. Crowley disagreed. He’d always made a point of being unpredictable. Yes, he had a tight schedule that he strictly adhered to, but as the CEO of the firm he’d built up from the ground, that was only to be expected.

At the beginning he had liked to keep informed of every little detail, but that was impossible these days; and so he vaguely recalled that the coffee shop in the foyer had been newly leased on this Monday morning, but didn’t worry too much about it. He took his coffee black anyway.

It had been an idea of his mother’s, the coffee shop within the premises of his business; and to this day, he only begrudgingly admitted that it had been a good one. The truth was that many of his employees preferred popping down for a quick snack to eating in the cafeteria; and Crowley himself had found it was less of a hassle to purchase his coffee in the morning than make it himself.

Still – he hadn’t checked the new tenant of the coffee shop, trusting Charlie Bradbury’s back check. If she didn’t find anything, there simply was no reason to object to the man – Dean Winchester, he suddenly remembered.

So nothing could have prepared him for the side that met him as he strolled through the door.

On the counter of the coffee shop stood the most attractive man he’d ever set eyes on, and that was saying something.

He looked up and beamed. “Good morning!”

“Morning” Crowley replied automatically. Dear God, those green eyes. “One coffee, black –“

“Nope” he answered matter-of-factly. Crowley stared at him.

“What?”

“I run a coffee shop, and you expect me to just serve you black coffee? That’d be an utter waste.”

“An utter... do you even know who you’re talking to?”

It had happened a few times over the years – new employees not realizing who Crowley was when they first interacted with him; he had got used to put them in their place –

“Fergus Crowley, CEO. Even less reason to torture yourself with boring coffee, then.”

Dean Winchester raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he was trying to challenge him.

Two could play at that game.

“So then what would you recommend, Mr. Winchester?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling. To his surprised, Crowley realized he would have been at danger if the man hadn’t been so utterly irritating. “First of all, you always want a hint of cream and sugar in your coffee. Just black means you’re only trying to wake up, not enjoying your drink.”

“Which, I believe, is the purpose of coffee” he shot back.

“Not here. Nope. Not at Winchester’s Pie Emporium.”

Dear God, he hadn’t paid attention to the name before.

“Here, we want people to enjoy their coffee, and to get a bite to eat while they’re at it.”

“I never have breakfast.”

“Pie isn’t breakfast. Pie is brain food.”

The man was lucky he was so handsome, otherwise Crowley would have left five minutes ago. “So in order to get my coffee, I have to purchase a slice of pie? Is that your idea of how business works?”

He gave him another cheeky grin. “No.” And he quickly turned around to make coffee while Crowley could only look on, feeling rather confused. It was not an emotion he was sued to nor one he particularly liked.

“Here” Dean announced with a flourish, sliding both a cup and a piece of pie over the counter. “Pecan pie and coffee... with spice. On the house.”

“Spice?”

“You look like you could need some in your life” Dean winked.

“I’ll let you know” he drawled before leaving, not giving him the satisfaction of watching him react to the food and drink.

And alone in his office, he had to admit that both were delicious.

If only Dean Winchester weren’t so annoying. Well; there was no reason for him to visit the coffee shop; he could always get his assistant to bring him some, or he could go without, if he had to.

And yet he returned to the shop the next morning. It seemed the place was already catching on. Several of his employees were sitting at the tables having a quick breakfast, none of them meeting his eyes. He was sued to it.

Winchester beamed at him. “Crowley! How did you like the pie?”

Something he definitely wasn’t used to was being addressed so formlessly, and he could almost hear each of the patrons holding their breaths.

“It was adequate, thank you. Do I get my black coffee now?”

Dean pouted. “I thought I had converted you from your blasphemy.”

Strangely, Crowley found himself wishing to give in. He squashed that impulse quickly.

“Just coffee, black, strong.”

“Fine, fine, but don’t say I didn’t try.”

“I would never do that” he assured him calmly. Dean brought him his coffee and he went to his office, aware of several incredulous stares from his employees. Really, they were being overdramatic. Just because Dean’s approach to business was a tad unusual didn’t mean that he had to be a bastard towards him.

Only after he had taken several sips of his coffee (that tasted excellent, however it felt like he was missing something... maybe spice? Wait, what? No he wasn’t going to go there) did he notice that Dean had drawn a smiling sun on his cup with the line “No need to be bitter!” under it. The word bitter was underlined.

Who was this man?

That afternoon, Charlie Bradbury came to his office to discuss the new accounting program. As always, she’d done everything to ensure a swift and easy transition; and Crowley mused once more that it was more than worth it to allow her to wear her Doctor who shirts during meetings.

“Miss Bradbury” he said as she was about to leave, “The new tenant of the coffee shop, Dean Winchester...”

“Oh, you’ve met Dean?”

He raised an eyebrow. The question implied a familiarity he had not been aware of. “You know him?”

“Sure, we’ve been friends since college. He got a business degree to open his place after he’d become a baker.”

Dedication. Certainly more than Crowley usually encountered. He cleared his throat. “He seems very... opinionated about coffee.”

She grinned. “So you already got the “black coffee is a waste of all my year of training” speech?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t worry about that. He’s really a good guy – one of the best men I’ve ever known. Helped keep me on the straight and narrow back then, really.”

Crowley could have replied that he had his doubts this was entirely true, but it would have come close to bantering.

She was eying the cup he hadn’t thrown away yet for some reason. “Oh, he must really like you. He’s begun with the puns.”

It was of no consequence whatsoever whether Dean Winchester liked him or not, so why was he pleased to hear that? “We’ll see how it goes – with the coffee shop, I mean.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, Dean’ll make profit. He’s really good at what he does.”

Remembering the pie, Crowley had to agree with her.

Not out loud, of course.

The next morning, Dean greeted him with a big grin. “Charlie told me you really liked the pie.”

“I did not say any such thing.”

“Yeah, but she can read you like a book.”

He’d rather not have his employees gossip behind his back, but he could hardly do anything against that.

“Don’t look like someone kicked your puppy. She thinks the world of you.”

That... was definitely not something he had heard before.

“Here” Dean said, sliding over another piece of pie with his black coffee. “Apple. On the house.”

“You do know what it means to make profit, right?”

“I know what it means to make my customers happy” Dean said cheekily and Crowley looked down at his cup.

A drawing of a kitten next to the words _Just espressing an opinion, but black coffee is still boring_.

Another pun. He thought of what Charlie had said and left quickly.

A few days later (all of them beginning with Dean’s happy grin and puns on his cup) he and Gavin had a fight. He’d just called him to talk about his plans to expand – they didn’t always see eye to eye, but Gavin was still his son and heir and needed to know about such things – and they had ended up quarrelling about his work ethics again.

“Father, you’re not getting any younger. You shouldn’t work every day of the week, and you’re lonely –“

“I’m not lonely.”

“Of course you are, I can hear it in your voice –“

Things had only gone downhill from there, and he was annoyed enough to leave his office not at ten pm as he was used to, but at nine.

As it turned out, Dean was just closing up shop. He must have seen him through the glass doors, for he pushed them open and called out, “Hey Crowley, come in!”

He obeyed, not quite sure why.

Dean put another piece of pie in front of him, this one with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“How do you know?”

“I am familiar with that expression. Seen it often enough in a mirror” he replied simply.

“I had a fight with Gavin.”

“Your son?”

“Miss Bradbury should –“

“Please. You really think I don’t check on people I do business with? That’s how I know about him.”

Crowley was impressed. Not many people managed to surprised him.

“Yes. He thinks I should take it easier.”

“Can’t see why you shouldn’t. Business is booming, you have more than enough people to take care of things...”

“I don’t really like to let go of my control” he answered.

Dean grinned. “Too bad. Maybe we should work on that.”

And just like that, the conversation took on a completely different tone. “You think so?” he asked casually.

“Yeah. Can’t disappoint your son, after all.”

“I think I did that years ago.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “You know how it is. Children rarely, if ever, forgive their parents.”

Oscar Wilde? Crowley was finding more and more layers to Dean Winchester.

It was... almost exhilarating.

He shouldn’t have – common sense told him he shouldn’t have, but he’d always had trouble denying himself what he really wanted – but he went home with Dean that night.

He would have excepted it to be a one night stand, but somehow, it kept happening. A few nights a week, either his or Dean’s place, no one to see them or judge them, and then he found himself taking a weekend off for the first time in decades.

And yet he wasn’t allowed to sleep in; a phone call woke them both up early Sunday morning.

Dean groaned and turned around, burying his head in his pillow. Crowley allowed himself a small smile as he answered.

“Father! You’re not in your office! Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Gavin. I have merely taken your advice and taken a weekend off –“

“Not that it didn’t take me months to convince you to” Dean grumbled, still half-asleep, which was probably why he didn’t realize Gavin could hear him.

“Father!? Did you find a boyfriend!?” Gavin all but shrieked and Crowley idly wondered if that was the reaction children were supposed to have when they found out their parents were dating.

Wait – dating? Were he and Dean dating? They had never talked –

Dean took the phone out of his hand. “Gavin? Hi, this is Dean Winchester, your father’s boyfriend. Yes, i would like to meet, but I only just got him to take some time off, so... Alright, I’ll tell him.”

He hung up. “He’ll call this afternoon.”

“Alright” Crowley said, still feeling a little bit unsure –

Dean cuddled up close. “We’ll talk later.”

Crowley, on this warm Sunday morning, decided that this was a wonderful idea.

**Author's Note:**

> The world needs more Drowley AUs. That is all.


End file.
